Lifeline
by FortunesArkHero
Summary: If someone had to die because Ultron developed the worst case of a god complex (next to Tony Stark), Clint wasn't gonna let it be the kid.
1. Chapter 1

**An AU of Age of Ultron because I needed a fix it fic real quick.**

Pietro Maximoff only had a moment to think, but a moment was all he needed.

He saw Clint holding the small Sokovian boy in his arms, clutching the child to his chest. Clint turned his back on the quinjet as it started to open fire. If someone had to die because Ultron developed the worst case of a god complex (next to Tony Stark), Clint wasn't gonna let it be the kid. He braced himself, expected the bullets to pierce his flesh and claim his life. His children would have to live without a father. Little Nathaniel wouldn't even _know_ his father. After this would be all over, even if they managed to defeat Ultron without him, Clint Barton was going to become nothing more than just a treasured memory. He clenched his eyes tight, hoping, damn near praying that when the bullets hit him, they wouldn't pass through and hit the boy.

Clint felt a rush of wind and he was very certain that someone had grabbed him for a split second. That was impossible! The bullets were just inches away from him. Not even the most physically fit human could've- Wait. Human. His eyes snapped open and his brows crinkled together. His nostrils filled with scents all too familiar; the metallic smell of blood, burning debris and burnt rubber. He saw the child in his arms, still breathing and most likely in shock. Clint's head immediately jerked up, catching the sight of blue and white in his peripheral. He turned his head to the right, his eyes shot wide with confusion. He wanted this to be a trick, that someone was messing with his mind again. He had hoped that it was still the effects of the Chitauri scepter screwing with him.

Pietro. It was Pietro.

The silver-haired man stood at the right of Clint, his hands outstretched and knees wobbly. He struggled for breath. Clint counted six visible bullet wounds on the kid, but knew there could've been more. Crimson bloody flowers bloomed all over his body, but he felt no pain. Pietro had been Clint's shield. He only had a moment to think and his brain thought quick enough to tell him to move. His gaze flicked to the Sokovian child in Clint's arms, knowing that he was safe now. He looked up at the Archer, the corner of his mouth turned upward into a pained smirk. A dark shade of blue and a light shade of green examined each other. In the middle of a war- torn battle ground, Pietro Maximoff saw the horror in Clint Barton's eyes. Horror. Pain. Regret.

"You didn't see _that_ coming." Pietro fell to the ground unceremoniously, everything felt slow around him, and then there was just darkness.

Clint put the boy gently on the ground and was at Pietro's side in less than a second. He put a hand to his neck, begging whatever god was listening to keep Pietro alive. Steve placed his shield on his back, looking down at the archer and the newest Avenger. Clint looked up at him, the expression on the man's face gave Steve the answer that he already feared. Steve bent down next to Pietro as Clint picked up the young boy. He kept the kid's head buried into his shoulder. The boy had already been shot at, he didn't need to see the body of the one who was shot saving him. Steve gently turned Pietro onto his back, closing the young man's open and lifeless eyes. He lifted the younger man into his arms, Pietro's head lolled against his shoulder, almost as if he were asleep.

 _If you get killed…walk it off._

Steve inwardly cursed himself for saying that. The one person on the team that had no trouble with walking (or running) was the one that had died. Steve wanted to protect the kids when they joined. He wanted to make sure that they would come out of this, and now, as the dead Maximoff boy was in his arms, he had failed. For God's sake, Pietro was just kid! He was younger than Steve when Strucker experimented on him. This wasn't fair. Pietro deserved better than to be gunned down. He deserved to live; he had a full life ahead of him. And Wanda. Oh, Christ, Wanda! She was going to be absolutely destroyed when she found out, unless her weird twin mind connection with her brother already told her. Steve (and he was pretty sure Clint, too) felt sadness for the Maximoff twins; sadness for Wanda for the loss of the only family she had left, and sadness for Pietro for the life that had so violently and abruptly been taken away.

Steve laid Pietro's body as carefully as he could onto the cold steel ground of the Helicarrier boat and returned to help the others. Clint reunited the child with his mother, speaking in comforting Sokovian to him. As the archer began to walk, he felt an excruciating pain in his right side, his hand immediately pressed to it. His first thought was that he had indeed been grazed by a bullet, which, to his chagrin, was true as he pulled his hand back and it was coated red. Clint groaned as he sat on the bench, brushing away a medic that tried to examine him. He lied down on the bench, his body next to that of his fallen comrade, his ally. His _friend_.

Clint's hand hung off the side of the bench, slightly ghosting over Pietro's wrist.

And he found an incredibly faint, damn near non-existent pulse.

 **I was not ok after seeing Pietro die, and I don't think I am the only one.**

 **I would love to hear what you all think of this! Please review, favorite, and follow!**

 **~Fortune**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, guys! I am absolutely floored and honored with the response to this. I never imagined that this story would get so popular. I also apologize for not cranking this out sooner. Please read, review, favorite, follow and please enjoy!**

Clint Barton hated hospitals so goddamn much…even if it was a SHIELD hospital.

He sat in one of those uncomfortable plastic white chairs in the waiting room, his head buried in his hands. They had medically cleared him; he only needed a few stitches from the bullet that grazed him and a good rest. He couldn't even think about sleep right now. His brain was buzzing a mile a minute. The nurses there had given him a pair of blue scrubs to change into so that way he would be comfortable. He bounced his left leg rapidly while a manila colored folder sat on the chair next to him. Clint peeked at the folder through his fingers every few seconds, a lone piece of paper stuck out from it. With a sigh, he took the folder into his calloused hands and opened it gently. His eyes landed on one particular detail…

Pietro Django Maximoff had just turned 22 years old.

The twins were born on March 3rd, the battle of Sokovia happened just a little over 2 months later in the beginning of May. The twins spent their 22nd birthday in the clutches of HYDRA, probably just thankful to be alive to celebrate another one. Pietro was born at 12:13 pm and Wanda followed twelve minutes later. His parents were Django and Marya Maximoff, and they were killed when the twins were 10 and a shell hit their apartment. The twins grew up in an orphanage, and when they aged out, they started to participate in protests against the war in their country, which then got them entangled into protests against the Avengers. Shortly after they turned 21, the twins volunteered to take part of Strucker's experiments under the pretense that they would be protecting their country. They probably never anticipated that they would end up joining the very people they swore to fight.

Pietro probably never expected to give his life to protect an Avenger.

"Mr. Barton?" Clint's head jerked up at seeing a nurse looking at him.

"He's stable."

 _He found an incredibly faint, damn near non-existent pulse._

 _Clint got up from the bench and knelt next to Pietro, it took all of the strength he had to prevent a cry of pain from escaping his lips. Clint gently held the boy's head with his right hand and placed two fingers to his neck, praying that the pulse he felt was real. And it was. He felt a light beat under his fingers. Clint slid his left arm under Pietro's legs and pulled him close, ignoring the searing agony in his side. With as much strength as he could muster, the archer lifted the speedster and laid him down on the bench carefully as to not aggravate his horrible wounds. "Hey! Someone help me, he's alive! He needs a medic!" He saw one of SHIELD's medics come sprinting toward him and he knew that the kid was going to get the help he needed. Clint looked back at Pietro and cupped his face._

" _Alright, listen to me, you punk," he said, softly. "You've got too much to live for. You're only a kid, you've got a full life ahead of you. You need to live for Wanda. You need to live for you. So, you better pull through. You gotta live." Medics crowded around the two, pushing Clint out of the way so they could load Pietro on a stretcher. As he stood up, he nearly doubled over; the pain in his side reminded him that he had not escaped unscathed. Clint didn't care about his injuries. He knew he was going to live. One of the medics saw him struggle and immediately hooked the archer's arm over his shoulders and helped him stay up. He never broke his gaze he had on the people that took Pietro away, even when his vision started to fade to black._

" _Pietro!" He called out, weak and hoarse. "You gotta live!"_

 _And that's when his world went black._

Clint had woken up a while later when the medic that stayed with him had finished suturing his injury. After his foggy brain cleared up, his only thought was about Pietro. They had separated Pietro from everyone on the boats so they could try to keep him alive. They wouldn't let Clint see him, didn't even tell them if the kid was still alive or if they would be planning a funeral. It was only when they landed at the SHIELD hospital to treat the injured that someone had told him that Pietro was still alive but in critical condition. Apparently, his heart had stopped twice on the way. That made Clint's blood run cold.

Pietro's heart had stopped…twice.

The kid was going to need a miracle. He shouldn't even be fighting for his life. He didn't have to go and be a god damn hero and sacrifice himself. Clint would make it up to him, he owed him. His children would be fatherless if the outcome were different. He pictured Natasha going to see Laura and the kids and telling them that he didn't make it. Clint shook his head. He couldn't think like that. Clint and the young nurse continued down a cream-colored corridor until she stopped him in front of a room. He peered through the window, swallowing the thick lump in his throat hard. "Although most of the bullets passed through him, they did a significant amount of damage to his body. He has internal bleeding, a shattered sternum, multiple broken ribs. His arms were hit. He also has a collapsed lung, so the tube in his throat is helping him breathe."

"And his legs?" Clint said, suddenly. "The kid's a runner."

"A bullet shattered his right femur and it was strong enough to do damage to his hip. When Mr. Rogers told us about the situation, we knew it would be a while before the arrival so we had a few of the agents acquire whatever device Dr. Cho used on you in the tower. We attempted to use it on him and-"

"What do you mean 'attempted?'"

"Due to the experiments that were performed on him with the Chitauri scepter, Pietro's body was rejecting the process of his tissues binding together. Mr. Rogers informed us about his increased metabolism. Now, that should be able to help with healing, but because of the amount of extensional trauma he suffered, it will take much longer for him to recover. If he is going to wake up, he will have to undergo extensive physical therapy. To be honest, it's a miracle that he has even survived this long." Clint didn't like any of the words coming out of her mouth. He knew that he shouldn't be angry with her. She was just doing her job and telling him the truth. But, even though exactly what he wanted to hear in terms of Pietro's condition wasn't exactly what he wanted to hear in terms of Pietro's condition.

"Can I go in?" he said softly; his voice broke but his gaze on Pietro did not.

"No one besides doctors or nurses can be permitted into the room. His body is very fragile right now and he needs to recuperate. Any exposure to anyone from the outside could cause him to contract an infection and set back his recovery…or worse. If Pietro pulls through and if his body becomes stronger within the next few days, we will allow people inside his room. I'm sorry, Mr. Barton. We've done all we can. It appears that he'll remain stable, but, the rest is up to him." And with that, the nurse left Clint to stand in front of the kid's ICU room. He stood there, his eyes continued to be transfixed on the boy. He looked like shit. Clint was _definitely_ going to have to make it up to him.

Clint felt a vibration in the pocket of his scrub pants, remembering that he had turned his cell phone on silent when he arrived at the hospital. He groaned as he dug the device out of his pocket. It read 'Cap' on the caller ID. "Hey, Cap," he said as he pressed his phone to his ear. " _How is he?_ " Clint sighed, rubbing his hand over his face and removing small beads of sweat that he didn't know had formed. "All sorts of messed up. The kid's got a breathing tube, internal bleeding and a lot of broken bones. No one outside of the hospital's staff is allowed into his room for a few days." He turned on his heel, his back now facing the room. "Cap, I'm gonna stay here and wait til he wakes up. If he wakes up." " _'When'._ " Steve corrected. " _He's a tough a kid. He survived experimentations and a barrage of bullets_."

"A barrage of bullets that he shouldn't had needed to take."

" _You can't blame yourself, Clint. None of this is your fault. No one could've known what Pietro was going to do except himself. There was no way that you-"_

Whatever Steve was saying was abruptly cut off by the blare of hospital sirens…coming from Pietro's room.

Clint's eyes bolted wide as he spun around, forgetting that he was talking on the phone and shoved it in his pocket. Something was happening. Something was _wrong_. Clint's eyebrows crinkled together, his breathing quickened as he saw a slew of doctors and nurses with what he assumed was a crash cart barreling into Pietro's room. "Hey, what the hell is going on!?" The room was filled a high-pitched whine. Clint stepped two feet inside the room; the nurses and doctors crowded around the kid. "Someone tell me _right now_ what the hell is wrong with him! Is he dying!?" A nurse appeared in front of Clint, the same nurse that brought him here. She was saying something along the lines of how he wasn't supposed to be in there and that he needed to wait outside. As he was trying to protest, the nurse gently pushed him into the hallway and closed the door; the commotion of the medical staff and the machines become muffled and dull. Clint's eyes flicked to Pietro and then to the heart monitor next to his bed. Instead of steady bumps that were there 30 seconds ago, it was nothing more than a flat line.

Pietro was dying.

 **I would like to thank you all for your wonderful feedback! 20 reviews, 55 favorites and 83 follows for just one chapter is incredible and it is heart-warming as a writer to hear and see all of your opinions and all the love. Thank you so much! I hope to hear from all of you for this chapter.**

 **I would also like to thank my best friend Emily (Forevermore Love) for helping me come up with parts of this chapter! Thanks, love!**

 **~Fortune**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, it's been a little over 2 months since I updated this and I am incredibly sorry. But I am hoping that this chapter makes up for the long wait. Please read, review, favourite and follow and most importantly enjoy!**

 **Warning: This chapter might make you feel a lot of angst with a smidge of fluff**

"You'd like Cooper, man. He's got a lot of spirit for a 7 year old."

Clint sat next to Pietro's bedside, hoping that the punk would wake up and give him some smart-ass comment about how he wouldn't be able to keep up with his spirited children because he's an old man. After that close call, the doctors and nurses were able to stabilize him and keep it that way. And finally after four days, Pietro's body had healed enough to where Clint was allowed inside of the room. Clint was very adamant about staying in the hospital with him until he woke up, and after Fury had pulled strings (because Clint wasn't family, they initially wouldn't let him stay), the staff had set up a cot in the open corner of the room. Laura understood completely and brought him a week's worth of clothes. Cooper and Lila were told that their daddy was on a special mission and that he would come straight home as soon as he could. Natasha had offered to stay with them to help out; she knew very well that the two kids could be a handful for Laura. And with little Nathaniel on the way, Laura was going to need it.

Oh…they still hadn't thought about a middle name for Nathaniel. Just maybe…

Clint had his chair positioned near the head of Pietro's bed and his feet were propped up near the kid's feet. His collapsed lung had started healing better than the rest of his body and they had removed the tube no more than an hour ago, replacing it with a cannula. The kid still looked like he had walked through hell and back. He would probably feel like that too if he woke up. No… _when._ _When_ Pietro woke up. Cap was right. Pietro was going to wake up, do his physical therapy, get better and be his snarky self again. "I'm not giving you a choice here, you ass-hat. You're going to wake up and you're going to recover, even if I have to watch you like a hawk." Clint smirked at his own joke, hoping that Pietro would find it funny.

The docs said that if the kid would wake up, now would've been the time to do it. The increased metabolism had been healing him, but he still remained in a coma with a bunch of broken bones. Nobody knew the true potential of Pietro's healing abilities, not even the quick little bastard himself probably knew. So far, Clint had been the one to stay with Pietro the whole time. Steve called twice a day to get an update, although he knew that it would be the same every time he called. Even though they worked with them briefly, the other Avengers didn't flat-out say that they trusted the Maximoff twins. The only ones they really had on their side were Clint, Steve and Vision, and even then, the Avengers still kept their guard up around them. To be honest, half of the team thought that the twins would betray them. But they stuck by them. And now, it was time for Clint to do the same.

He hadn't seen Wanda at all, which struck him as very odd. The siblings were basically joined at the hip. Clint could only imagine how hard it was for them to be separated during their time in HYDRA. It made him think of his big brother. After the deaths of their parents, they always were together in the carnival. Barney even taught him how to make his aim more accurate and that training stuck with him all throughout his SHIELD days. Clint read the files on the Maximoff twins countless times while watching over the kid and it said that they were always together. Wanda should be here with her brother.

Clint heard the soft rapping of knuckles on the door, and immediately tensed. He had to remember that he was in a SHIELD hospital and that there were no enemies here, anymore. Any person they hired had been given an extremely thorough background check. HYDRA spies had better up their game if they thought they could infiltrate the facility. He looked over his shoulder and saw a nurse in her navy blue scrubs with the SHIELD symbol in the upper-left corner. She donned a long gray sleeve shirt under it. She waved at him and gave him a small smile. She was young. Really young. Like she was Pietro's age. "They told me to record his vitals an hour after the tube came out," she said as she walked to Pietro's bed, grabbing the clipboard at the foot of it and skimmed it over.

She held two fingers to Pietro's wrist, careful as to not detach his IV. After a moment, she jotted down her recordings on the paper attached to the board. Her eyes then glanced over to the monitors. Another minute passed, another set of notes being written down. She then pulled out the stethoscope, placing the earbuds securely into her ears and the other part over Pietro's heart. She removed the scope and placed it in her pocket, jotting down notes again. Clint tried to decipher her features carefully. He chewed on his bottom lip, briefly; nervousness had started to take over.

"So, when do you think he'll be fully healed and mobile?"

"I can't be completely sure," she said, curiously. "He _is_ improving, so that's good. His brain activity is getting stronger. His heart, although a little irregular due to the experiments, is beating healthily. His lung is healing better than we all expected. I know it's only been four days since he arrived here surviving what most humans couldn't, but he's not like most humans. I am very hopeful that Pietro will wake up anytime between today or within a few days." Clint looked at Pietro's still form, and then back at the nurse before standing up. "They wanted me to give you this," she said as she deposited a black device into Clint's hand. "It's a pager, so that way if there is any change or he wakes up, someone can be notified."

"Thank you. It's refreshing to hear that someone other than me and Cap are hopeful about him," Clint said as he stood up and stuck out his hand. She put the clipboard back at the foot of the bed before hesitantly shaking Clint's hand.

"He looks strong, like he has a lot of fight left in him. It wouldn't feel right to me to give up on someone like that." She chewed on her bottom lip before turning on her heel and making her way out of the room. Her right hand rested on the door frame and she gently tapped it with her finger. She craned her head over her shoulder, her eyes rested on Pietro. "He isn't gonna say it at first, his pride won't let him…but when he is recovering, Pietro will want your help. I read his file; I know what happened to his family. I think because it's just been him and his sister, he's probably always been the one to help her. In his mind, if he had to ask for help, it might've meant that he wasn't strong enough to keep her safe. He needs someone, Mr. Barton. And I've got a strong feeling that someone is going to end up being you." The nurse gave him a curt nod before she made her way out of the room, presumably to check on the other severely injured Sokovians that SHIELD had insisted on keeping in their care until they were healed. It was the least that they could do since their home was destroyed.

Clint sat back down, pulling out his wallet as he did so. He carefully unfolded a small piece of paper and gave a smile that erupted from ear to ear: A picture of him, Lila and Cooper. His family meant the world to him. He would do any and everything (and he's quite sure he has done any and everything) for them. He kept their entire existence a secret from SHIELD and the Avengers. Even though his job claimed a lot of his time, there were those precious moments with his family that he was going to treasure. He taught Cooper how to fish and was immensely proud when the boy caught a catfish that was almost as big as his body, and he was the first person Lila went to when she decided she wanted to learn piano. Clint knew and saw how Pietro regarded his family with the utmost importance.

Clint pulled out his cell phone from his pocket and hit speed dial #2. When it went to voicemail, he let out a sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "Hey, Cap, it's Barton. Whenever you get this, call me back. It's sorta important."

Clint had to make it up to Pietro and he was gonna start that by getting Wanda to see her brother.

* * *

It was a whole goddamned 12 hours when Clint's phone started vibrating like crazy in his pocket, jolting him awake from a nap that he desperately needed. He rubbed his tired eyes for a moment with the heel of his hand before pressing the button and holding the phone to his ear. "Yeah?" he slurred as he ran his hand through his hair. He straightened in his chair when he heard Steve talk on the other end. "Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about Wanda." He stood up and started pacing around the bed. "I think it would be good for her to be brought here to see Pietro. I've been here the whole time and not once did I see Wanda. Kinda weird since they're twins. Cap, I know it's gonna be hard for her with him all messed up like this but she needs to be here to see him. Maybe her weird mind powers can try and get him to wake up." Clint stopped on the left side of Pietro, his face slowly turning into his famous scowl. His eyebrows were creased together in confusion and simmering anger; his lips parted lightly.

"What do you mean Wanda isn't going to be told Pietro's alive!?"

Clint's seething and blinding fury prevented him noticing that the hem of his jacket was being tugged with a grip so weak that the fingers didn't even clutch it tightly. The nimble fingers curled around the hem again and tugged, this time with enough force that nearly yanked Clint down to the ground. He regained his footing, thankful that he didn't lose enough balance to send his phone catapulting towards the floor and breaking. His head abruptly snapped up, eyes locked on to the source that had distracted him from his much intended yelling at Steve. A dark shade of blue and a light shade of green examined each other. "Cap, I'm gonna have to call you back." Immediately, he shoved his phone into his pocket and knelt down to be at eye level. Clint couldn't even speak; his words constricted in his throat. He felt the corners of his mouth spasm and a smile found its way onto his features.

"Old man..."

 **The moment that everyone was waiting for: Pietro's awakening.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was a little longer than my others but I really like turned out. Please leave a review! I'd love to hear what you had to say.**

 **~Fortune**


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh my god, I haven't updated this in almost 2 years. I am so so sorry that it took this long to get the chapter up. But I am so thankful that even after almost 2 years of silence with this fic, I was still receiving notices that people were continuing to follow this story. After watching some more of the newer MCU movies and rewatching AoU, I got really inspired. Once again, thank you to the people who were continuously faithful to this story and still had faith. I leave you with this chapter, and because the Marvel Phases are advancing, I know how this story is going so you will not have to wait another 2 years for the next chapter.**

 **Please enjoy this chapter! You very much deserve it.**

"Old man…"

Clint beamed, and he never really did that unless it was towards his family. He actually beamed. He didn't want to place his hand on the kid. Pietro was too damaged for something even gentle like a reassuring touch. "You gave me a hell of a scare there, kid. You were touch and go a few times. Your idiot self is lucky to still be breathing right now."

"You didn't see that coming?"

"Yeah, you need a new catchphrase."

Pietro's tired green eyes closed, briefly. His nostrils flared and the smell hit him; the smell of it being too clean and sterile. He recognized the smell instantly. He had been in this familiar smell shortly after his and Wanda's parents had died: The smell of a hospital. His brows creased as he felt pain radiate all over his body. He looked down at himself and saw that he was cladded in a hospital gown, that his arms were wrapped up and that his left arm was pinned to his chest and that his right leg up to his hip was kept immobile. Pietro's breathing started to quicken, panicked and slurred Sokovian escaped the boy's mouth. Clint fumbled for the pager the nurse gave him and started pressing that thing as if the world were going to end and that little device would be their saving grace. Pietro needed to calm down. He was going to aggravate his wounds and set back his recovery.

Pietro looked at Clint with pure fear in his eyes. "Hey, hey! Pietro, you have to calm down. I get it, kid. You're scared and you have no idea what the hell is going on and I'll tell you what happened, but I need you to calm down."

"Where's Wanda? I have to get to her."

Pietro weakly gripped the mattress and tried to push himself to sit up. His eyes screwed shut and he let out a cry of sheer agony that Clint thought would be enough to send the kid back into a coma. His head hit the pillow with a thud and his foggy brain came to the conclusion that he was not going anywhere. After a few minutes of fighting the scorching pain that engulfed his body, Pietro was at least able to sit up and have the giant pillow support his back. Before either man could say anything, however, the door to the room was whipped open so fast that it nearly tore the damn thing off its hinges. A doctor he had seen before (though he didn't exactly care to get his name) and two nurses (the younger one, he noticed, had been the one that gave him the pager) had entered the room. The doctor and older nurse's mouths were agape, while the corners of the younger nurse's lips turned into a smirk. Clint stood up and turned to Pietro, immediately noticing the fear in his eyes had returned.

"It's OK, kid," he said as he gently placed his hand on Pietro's shoulder. "These people have been the ones making sure you're still alive at the end of the day. They probably just wanna see how you're doing since you're awake, now. I'm gonna go talk to her," Pietro's gaze followed Clint's finger as he pointed to the younger nurse, "but I'm gonna stay right here in the room. I'm not going outside, I'll be right by the door." Clint made his way over to the young girl as the doctor and older nurse clamored around Pietro. "Did you know he was gonna wake up? You got some sort of super power that tells you things like that?" He asked, jokingly.

"Yeah, reading minds is my specialty," she retorted, her arms crossed over her chest. Both hers and Clint's gaze never broke while they looked at the silver-haired boy.

"You never know. Crazy things have been happening a lot lately."

"Well, Mr. Barton, I can assure you I am not a super-powered pet that HYDRA, SHIELD, or any other secret organization has lurking around. I'm just a nurse that has a lot of faith in her patients. And I have faith in Pietro. He's gonna be disoriented, probably be scared, and in a hell of a lot of pain for awhile. But like I said, he looks like a fighter. If all goes well, he should be discharged within a few days. After he heals up, and he needs to heal up properly, he should be back to normal."

Clint saw the doctor hold a small pen flashlight and wave them back and forth over Pietro's eyes. After a second, Pietro's face scrunched up in annoyance and he weakly pushed the doctor's hand away, earning a secretive smirk from Clint. "I can keeping staying here, right? I mean, now that he's awake, do I have to leave?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"I'm staying, then. I have to make it up to that kid."

The young nurse composed herself as the doctor and the older nurse walked towards her and Clint after their brief evaluation of Pietro. "So, his vitals are good. His heart is still a bit irregular from the experiments like we noted earlier, but it's still healthy. It might be difficult for him to breathe just because his lung is still healing and with all the bullets that passed through his chest. But it doesn't seem like he will relapse back into a coma. I did just give him a dose of morphine to help take the pain away, and it'll probably make him drift in and out of consciousness. Depending on how he is in a few days, I am very optimistic that he can be released into someone's care." Clint nodded, absorbing all the information that the doctor relayed to him, thankful that what he said was what he wanted to hear: that Pietro wouldn't go back into a coma.

"Thanks, Doc." Clint said as he firmly shook the doctor's hand. He watched as the doctor was trailed by the two women. The younger nurse turned on her heel, walking backwards with her colleagues but her gaze focused on Clint. She could no longer hide the smile that was just waiting to surface.

"Be sure to keep the pager within reach," she called out to him. "Just in case something goes wrong." Clint nodded to her as she and the other two turned a corner and were out of sight.

Clint walked in the room, noticing that Pietro had tried to put his hand to his neck. "Hold on, I'll get you some water." He took the pitcher of water that was on the bedside table and poured a small glass. Pietro struggled to get his arm up, wincing and letting out small groans of pain as he tried to reach out for the glass. "Kid, don't strain yourself. I can get you a straw and-" His words were cut off by the sharp glare of Pietro's tired, but slightly angered eyes. Clint understood. Pietro probably thought he was weak. When you were so used to doing things on your own, you didn't want help from others. You didn't want to be identified as weak. A moment after denying Clint's help, Pietro sighed heavily like he was defeated. Broken. Weak. His gaze was cast down to his lap. He couldn't look Clint in the eyes.

"Pietro? I want you to look at me, ok?" The silver haired boy shook his head dejectedly as Clint heard him mumble something he guessed was utterly depressing in Sokovian. "You're not weak, ya know," he said as he sat back down on the chair that was to Pietro's left. Slowly, he looked up at the archer, his eyes glistened with tears that threatened to fall. "You're not weak. And don't you put those thoughts into your head that you are, alright? Because it's bullshit. You turned against Ultron, helped save your people, survived a storm of bullets. If you ask me," he said as he leaned back in the chair, propping his feet on the bed and crossing his arms across his chest as he did. "You're a goddamn hero."

Pietro sniffed his nose lightly, and gave a small chuckle. Clint felt a bit of relief in that moment. It felt as if he were comforting his children. "Where's Wanda? I want my sister here."

"I know you do. I'm gonna get her to you as soon as I can. Just give me some time."

Pietro settled against his pillow, the effects of the morphine were starting to take over. His body felt numb, his eyes began to grow heavy. "What happened? I can't remember much. Is Ultron-"

"He's gone, kid. Wanda actually finished him off. She's pretty badass."

"And Costel? He was the boy you found."

"We returned him to his mother and we brought them here. He's fine, just got a bump on the head and understandably a little shaken up. But thanks to you, no bullet wounds. His mom had a broken leg and needed surgery to remove some shrapnel. She needed some stitches for a bad gash on her forehead, but they're gonna be ok. I've been getting updates on them and they should be released soon. Do you want to see them?" Pietro nodded, and Clint noted that Pietro was nodding off, like it was getting hard to keep his eyes open. Clint slightly nodded to himself, remembering that the doctor said that the kid would be drifting in and out of sleep. "Alright, well, I'll make you a deal, then. You heal up and listen to everything that the doctors and nurses tell you without being a smart-ass and I'll take you to them or I can bring them to you."

Clint felt the sudden vibration in his pocket. The vibration was loud enough for Pietro to hear, and he smirked. "I bet that's one of your Avenger friends. Probably the Captain." Clint dug into his pocket and grabbed the phone, chuckling to himself. He turned the phone towards Pietro, showing him that he was right.

"Speak of the devil and he shall appear. You know, maybe you've got some mind powers, too." Pietro started to laugh, which he immediately internally regretted after his laughter turned into a grimace as he now had a sharp pain in his chest. Clint got up from his chair and stepped toward him, though Pietro gave him a nod, silently letting him know that it would pass. "I'm just gonna step outside and talk to Cap. I'll be back." Clint walked out of the room, his phone still vibrating in his hand. After closing the door behind him, he pressed the answer button and held the phone to his ear.

 _'What the hell happened, Clint!?'_ were the words that were screamed into his eardrum so loudly that he had to pull the phone back from his ear for a second.

"Language, Cap!"

"First off, Hell is not a bad word, it's in the bible."

"Depends on the context," Clint replied as he tried to suppress a grin and a smart-ass type of cackle that might've followed. "He's awake, Steve." Clint heard an audible gasp on the other end of the phone.

" _That's great! You had me worried earlier. When you cut off the call, I thought he might've flat-lined again._ _How is he?_ "

"Well, the doc has him doped up on morphine, so he's feeling pretty good. Still looks like crap, but the doc said he won't go back into a coma. And...he's asking for Wanda. Steve, I need you to be completely honest with me, man...why is she being told that Pietro is dead? Do you even understand how messed up that is?"

" _Clint, I can't tell you why, because_ I _don't even know why. It's only what I've heard._ _I don't like that they are separating the twins, either. They are keeping Wanda away from everyone right now, and I haven't seen her since a few days ago. Clint, I was instructed not to tell you about this, but I thought it would be very wrong that you didn't know. And I want to help you reunite the twins._ "

"So...you're going against orders?" Clint asked as his brows were drawn together in confusion.

" _Sometimes_ … _you have to do what's right. Even if that m_ _eans_ _going against what you're told. Clint, I will try my hardest to make sure that Pietro and Wanda see each other again._ _When he's released-"_

"He's gonna stay with me."

" _I don't think they'll let you take him._ "

"I don't care, Cap. I owe the kid. He saved my life. And come on, I live on farm in the middle of nowhere with plenty of open space. He can run around to his heart's content. I think it'll be good for him. And if I need to sneak him out, I will."

Steve sighed on his end of the line. When it really came down to it, he knew that Clint was right. If Pietro needed to recover somewhere, the farm would probably be the best place. Away from the city and loud noises. Away from war, with plenty of open air. Who knows what sort of post traumatic stress Pietro might develop from being shot all those times? "You know I'm right," he heard Clint say.

" _Yeah, you are_. _Keep me updated on everything, alright?_ "

"Same on your end."

Clint hung up the phone and shoved it back into his pocket. This was so many shades of messed up. He inhaled sharply and then slowly exhaled as he made his way back into the hospital room. He plopped down on the chair, taking note that Pietro was completely asleep. As he looked at the boy's peaceful state, Clint made some silent vows to himself: He would move heaven and hell to reunite Pietro and Wanda, even if it got him into all sorts of trouble with SHIELD, that he would make sure Pietro would be back to running circles around him in no time, and that while in his care, he would protect him as if Pietro were one of his kids. "Oh, god, I'm old enough to be your father. I _am_ an old man." Clint went into his back pocket and pulled out the picture of himself with Lila and Cooper, and then pulled out the very first sonogram of Nathaniel when they found out it was a boy. He focused on the sonogram and smirked to himself. He put the pictures down on the bedside table and pulled out his phone, bring up Laura's number. With that smirk still on his face, he sent her a text.

 _I think I picked out a middle name for Nathaniel._

 **Welp, I initially wanted to end this chapter on a different but still happy note, but after much playing around with it in my head, I felt that this was a good way to end it. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. My boyfriend, the author DrekkDeina, was a huge motivator to get me back to writing. Anywho, I once again want to apologize that it took me almost 2 years to come back to my most popular story. And sincerely from the bottom of whatever I want to call a heart, thank you for sticking around for this story. Please favorite, follow and leave a review if you wish. I would love to hear what you thought of this chapter now that Pietro is awake.**

 **Until next time!**

 **~Fortune**


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